Losing is Winning

Chapter 1

Standing on the Olympic court, the highest summit an athlete could ever reach, and playing against the best of the best; it was Tobio's greatest goal in life. But on the day which had been supposed to mark another step towards the future he was aiming for, this dream seemed to recede into the dim distance.

His last middle school tournament should have been a success, a stepping stone to becoming a world class athlete. His whole life he had been practicing; to win this match, just as every other match that was to come—so that there would always be a next challenge, a stronger opponent to play against.

This was what his grandfather had promised him, and Tobio had carried this promise with him ever since, working towards it to make it come true one day, to finally find this one player who challenged him more than anyone.

But all the practice in the world couldn't have prepared him for this one tournament. Because the issue wasn't the huge shadows that fell upon Tobio every time the opposing team's blockers moved past him, each of them bigger than any of Kitagawa Daiichi's players. The real issue lay with his own teammates, who were gradually moving less with each loud sound of the ball hitting their side of the court. They didn't jump as high, didn't move as fast, didn't hit as heavily, and didn't react as solidly.

He needed to do something, he needed to score, or they would lose. "Don't slack off, you need to move faster!" he called out with a glare. The other team didn't go lightly on them, they would need to give it their best if they wanted to win this set. And Tobio wanted, needed, even, to win this set.

It was the setter's duty to get the ball to a place where the spiker wouldn't be faced with an unyielding wall. This was one of the first things his grandfather had taught him. Just... even though it was the setter's duty to clear the path, it wasn't solely in Tobio's hands to make the point, as much as he despised this fact at times like these.

He sensed the opposing blockers moving along the net as the ball fell towards his waiting fingertips. Speed, Tobio thought, slowly growing desperate because his teammates just didn't seem to get it. It was the only way they could beat the blockers' height and their advantage of covering a big part of the net without having to move much at all. But even though every blocked ball proved it, the others didn't change anything about their playstyle.

Volleyball was a team sport, and he knew that, but with a team that didn't put all the effort into the game, playing with others was nothing if not a source of frustration.

At this point, Tobio had already told them a dozen times that they needed to keep up with the ball, that they needed to be quicker, jump higher. Didn't they realize that they would lose otherwise? Don't they see that this is an important game? If I don't win here, I won't get to play another match in this tournament. And they won't, either. Didn't they see that?

Tobio glanced at the scoreboard. One more point for the other team and he would lose the set.

In a split second, he overlooked the formation of the blockers. There! All the blockers were in front of him, covering the left side of the court, so—

Arching his back at the last moment, he sent the ball flying behind him. It wasn't like a few of his earlier tosses. With no block there to stop the ball, it didn't need to be especially high or fast. No way his teammates would miss this time, they could still win.

When the ball collided with the wooden floor, a hollow sound reverberated through the gymnasium. It was the sound Tobio had been waiting to hear, but even so, everything in him stiffened. Too early. Not enough force. His eyes wide open, Tobio's gaze wandered over his shoulder and to the ground. The light bouncing of the ball as it rolled away—on their side of the court—made it look so insouciant. As though it wasn't just responsible for this setback.